


chain reaction

by prowlish



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Desk Sex, Dirty Dancing, Drinking, Energy Field Sexual Interfacing, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Self-Indulgent, Sexual Frustration, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tactile Sexual Interfacing, how many tags can i use that has 'sex' in it i wonder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-08 16:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3216056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prowlish/pseuds/prowlish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a party at Swerve's, and Rodimus is determined to have a good time with Drift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arianne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianne/gifts), [goodnyte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodnyte/gifts), [thedaringplatypus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedaringplatypus/gifts).



> I have absolutely no excuse for this.
> 
> I'm sorry.
> 
> (It's all my friends' fault kldajfd)  
> (also I will add more tags when I upload the next bit)

The beat of Blaster’s music pulsed perfectly in time with the flaring EM fields and the swirl of auras from all the mechs packed in Swerve’s. The barkeep himself had called for a party when the _Lost Light_ docked at a spaceport for maintenance. Well -- Swerve called for a party for most any reason, but with Rodimus convinced to grant leave time (as if his arm had to be twisted!), and Blaster sticking around willing to ‘spin some tunes’ as he called it, _this_ party had actually happened.

What Drift didn’t know was how he had been convinced to attend.

Not that he felt anti-social, but his favorite nights in Swerve’s tended to be quieter ones, with a cube of mid-grade -- this wasn’t his usual scene. Before the war, he’d never come close to any experience like this, and during? Well, not many felt the urge to party in the middle of an ages-long war, let alone dance the place down.

But then Rodimus squeezed his hand and tugged him through the intoxicating buzz of fields and heat from their shipmates’ frames, towards the bar -- and Drift remembered. He just had such a hard time telling Rodimus ‘no’, and Rodimus had wanted _so_ much for Drift to come with him. It wasn’t that ‘no’ was impossible to say, but Rodimus had a talent for getting Drift wound up and excited -- filled to the brim with a bubbly energy that made him feel giddy and want to take on any task. Quite the opposite of the relaxing, quieting effect his other friends had (Perceptor and Ratchet came to mind, if Ratchet would deign to call him friend!), but one Drift enjoyed just as much.

Only Rodimus could share his thrill and make Drift feel as though it were his own!

And that was, of course, the reason that he accepted the drink pushed into his hand. Normally he wasn’t a drinker, but -- but the glimmer in Rodimus’s optics made his pursed lips relax into an easy smile. They were on leave, at a party, after all. It wasn’t like he did this every day.

Rodimus grinned when Drift leaned against the bar and took a sip of the drink. “Good, huh?”

Honestly, Drift thought it was strong, but once again, he didn’t normally drink engex. Besides, the flavor was good, even with the sharp bite of thrice filtered high grade, so he smiled in return. It was infectious, anyway, seeing Rodimus’s glee. “Yeah.”

And they drank, which even that Rodimus turned into a game, and by the end of it, Drift felt his processors swim at the rapid consumption. Their drinks were gone in a flash, and Drift was mainly focused on the pleasant tingly feeling in his limbs -- until he noticed that Rodimus had turned back to the bar to order another round. “Rodimus -- ”

Before he knew it, Rodimus held out the second drink, that winning smile on his lips. “What?”

Drift sighed. “This is _all_ that I’m drinking,” he said, before he took the tumbler out of Rodimus’s hand.

Rodimus grinned. “Alright,” he said. Drift shook his helm again, but he worked on that drink, too. And the way he was feeling at the end of it completely justified his limit. It was a little embarrassing, but Drift just didn’t have the tolerance that most mechs did for engex. His vices had been different, and he’d rarely had access to a good grade of regular energon back then. Drift was vaguely aware of Rodimus having a few more drinks, but for the moment he was almost dreamily taking in the scene.

A new song started, and Drift caught how Rodimus perked up. It sounded like some Earth thing to Drift -- obviously something Rodimus knew. “C’mon,” he said, nudging Drift’s elbow.

“Huh?”

Rodimus laughed, the sound bright and full of possibility. He put his glass down with plenty of tip for Swerve. “C’mon!” he repeated, slipping his arm around Drift’s and pulling him forward.

Then he realized Rodimus was tugging him towards the throng of dancing mechs. Drift giggled, more of a nervous titter born of the engex that was still warming and pulsing through his lines. “Wait -- you’re serious?”

Rodimus laughed. “Yeah. What? No big deal. I mean, look at Skids.”

Drift glanced discreetly; the blue mech was dancing, well… enthusiastically was probably the word for it. But clearly he was enjoying himself. Which, Drift knew, was the entire point of all this in the first place. Still, he cast a doubtful look at Rodimus.

“What?” the captain teased again. He nudged Drift’s elbow. “All that fancy footwork you do for swordfighting and you throw in the towel at a little dance?”

That was, of course, the _perfect_ thing to say. The tease, the hint of a challenge, and the temptation to let go for a few moments… Drift grinned a little, and Rodimus matched it with a smirk, knowing he’d won.

As it turned out, Drift had not much to be self conscious over. There’d been a few whoops and hollers when they’d joined the makeshift dance floor, but for the most part, everyone was too busy doing their own thing (or too overcharged, this late in the party) to pay attention. _And_ it was fun, of course -- Rodimus could make anything fun. The thrill in his frame was only partly from the engex he’d drank. Their fields twined together, electricity shimmering over his plating in a tingling rush, _feeling_ Rodimus’s exhilaration. It doubled his own. No amount of engex felt like this, like a guilt-free circuit booster.

The music had changed, and seamlessly, he and Rodimus changed with it, into a much less… innocent dance. Drift’s plating jumped, his spark whirring with desire. Not as urgent as anything he’d ever felt with Rodimus, but a slow throb of arousal, lighting up his systems in time with the music and the crackle of their EM fields. That, too, had become more sensual -- more of a charge rising from their plating and buzzing together, thickening the air between them, than their own sensations shared flirtatiously in fickers over each others’ plating. With Rodimus grinding enthusiastically behind him, Drift could feel how hot the mech’s pelvic plating was, matching the rise in his own internal temperature. 

Even Rodimus’s hands stirred up charge, wandering over the little gaps and points in Drift’s armor that he knew so well. The swordsmech gasped, pressing back more into Rodimus’s frame, and was rewarded with a few harder grinds against his aft. Drift choked back another sound, moving with Rodimus and revelling in the tight grasp that his captain had on him.

He swore sparks flew between them, and Drift’s optics flared as Rodimus’s energy surged -- the captain’s overload burned through Drift’s field, setting his every sensor alight... until he was left gasping as it faded away, dissipated out of his own needy EM field, leaving him whining and wanting and clinging to Rodimus and his heat. Drift’s engine was hopelessly revved, his frame _aching_ from being so close to a peak, and then falling away.

Rodimus gasped against his helm, his energy field still tingling excitedly, but he clearly sensed Drift’s frustration. The red mech let out a breathless laugh, drunk on sensation more than the engex, and stroked his hands over Drift’s waist. “Sorry,” he murmured, his voice a rough purr. 

Drift shivered again; he turned in Rodimus’s embrace, pouting up at his captain, his engine growling in unsatisfied arousal. “Then make it up to me.”

Rodimus grinned. “You got it,” he rumbled into Drift’s audio. And under the cover of another song, he began to lead Drift away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late so this one might not be as well edited as the first bit (this is assuming that the first bit was well edited in the first place, lmao), but I'm just so happy I finished it because everything conspired against me this week.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Tags on the fic have been updated appropriately. ;)

Rodimus couldn’t help his laughter as he led Drift through the _Lost Light._ The squeeze of the swordsmech’s strong hand around his own reminded him of how worked up he’d -- accidentally! -- gotten his third. Of course, the hot ripple of Drift’s EM field and the revving of his engine close behind were always there and more obvious, but he focused on the grip of their hands. It was so rare for Drift to grip that hard, to lose focus on his careful boundaries of control.

It was hot.

But not nearly as hot as Drift pressing close behind him, his other hand flirting at Rodimus’s hip plating and making it _very_ difficult to walk. Or do anything. Rodimus really wanted to just shove Drift against the wall _right now_ , and he doubted Drift would complain, but -- he had a much better idea. 

Now he just had to improvise, since Drift was getting him all impatient again! So he dragged Drift into his office instead. It was much closer than either of their quarters, and now he _did_ have Drift pressed against the wall, kissing him hungrily as he blindly fumbled for the door lock. When it beeped in confirmation, he grinned against Drift’s lips, and tilted his helm to kiss the swordsmech’s neck instead. Drift moaned, and that was a more heady sensation than all his engex combined!

Rodimus stayed that way for a while, the swordsmech pinned to the wall, his frame blazing hot as Rodimus nipped and sloppily kissed at his neck cables. Until Drift started grinding his hips.

Primus. Rodimus moaned and shifted his grasp on Drift’s frame, taking on the white mech’s weight and walking him the few steps to his desk. Drift’s engine revved as his aft landed on the desk’s top, making Rodimus moan again from the vibrations that pulsed through his frame at that, and the hot lick of his energy field against Rodimus’s own. Frag, Drift was too hot! And while Rodimus would love to keep kissing him all night long, he owed Drift. 

Like it was a debt he resented. 

With a grin, Rodimus pushed Drift back on the desk, stepping between his legs. Drift gunned his engine again and Rodimus rumbled his own in return as he tugged Drift’s hips towards the edge of the desk and tugged those lovely legs up. Somehow Drift had gotten his panels open with Rodimus hardly noticing, but to be faced already with that beautiful valve? He loved it. And he loved the way Drift curled his legs around his shoulders and the back of his neck, pulling himself closer to Rodimus just as much as Rodimus was doing the same.

But he especially loved how wet he could see that Drift was, and how the mech squirmed when he pressed his glossa to it in a delicate taste. Drift always tasted so nice, but watching him in pleasure was the real treat. As he licked and sucked at the soft folds around Drift’s entrance, he could peer up the swordsmech’s body and have a great view of Drift twisting and moaning as he clenched his legs around Rodimus.

A sweep of his glossa over Drift’s anterior node, and the mech was shivering and writhing, a hand covering his mouth. Rodimus had no idea where that came from, but he loved that too: the way Drift covered his mouth and worried his fingertips with his denta, optics shuttered and letting out soft whines like he’d never felt anything so good as Rodimus’s mouth and glossa on his valve. It was more of an ego rush than he really needed; it was invigorating, more potent than the engex that still made his processors feel a bit blurry.

Rodimus pressed further against him, slipping his glossa inside Drift’s valve, rewarded with the eager squeeze of the mech’s calipers and the charge bursting over his glossa from the inner sensory nodes. He moaned, but not as loud as Drift did, and wrapped his arms more securely around Drift’s hips and waist as he felt the swordsmech arch his backstruts.

Rodimus kept this up, and after a moment, he slipped a hand up to tease Drift’s anterior node, enjoying the feeling of Drift’s flickering, desperate field surging in a hot rush of sheer _need._ The captain, in turn, became almost desperate with his actions, and soon, another reward: Drift arched again, beautifully, pulling his lips away from his mouth as he shouted in overload. Charge snapped over his plating, jumping to Rodimus’s and making him shiver down to his pedetips.

Awesome.

After a few more moments, Rodimus lifted his helm, grinning down at Drift as he licked lubricant off his lips. Just as gently, he lowered Drift’s legs off his shoulders, and enjoyed the daze that the mech seemed to be in. 

Slowly, he scooted Drift a little further onto the desk, and then crawled onto it himself, curling himself close to Drift’s overheating frame. A soft rumble came from his engine as he felt the blast of hot air from Drift’s vents, Rodimus’s hand tracing up to Drift’s chestplate. Drift’s engine turned over in response, a tired, choked sound as he smiled lazily at Rodimus.

“How’s that?” Rodimus asked.

“Apology accepted,” Drift replied.

They both laughed, until Rodimus tilted his helm and kissed Drift again. It was slow and hot and Rodimus was grinning into it again as Drift whined softly at the taste of his valve. Drift broke it, squirming, again acting like it was all just too much for him.

That was fine. And he’d soon have to gather them up, make a quick dash for the nearest set of washracks, tidy up, before going back to his quarters -- or maybe Drift’s. And that was fine, too. But for now, this was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on [@prowlish](https://twitter.com/prowlish) on twitter!! :)


End file.
